


The Pull of His Heart

by CamelotScryer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamelotScryer/pseuds/CamelotScryer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift for my sister. She asked for a story based around Matt Nathansons 'Come on Get Higher'. I obliged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pull of His Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grneyedgrl308](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grneyedgrl308/gifts).



It had been... months now since he left the Inquisition.

Left her.

Felix Lavellan. The woman he wanted to protect more than anything. The woman who made him believe that anything was possible.

He missed her. Her voice, her touch, the sound of her soft breathing next to him as he drifted off to dream in the fade. He missed meeting her there and sharing the memories that could be found within. He missed having her at his side. 

With a sigh he casts the last ward and lays out across his bedroll, tucking his arms behind his head to gaze up at the stars. He'd told her stories about the stars once, she'd seemed to enjoy them... And he is getting off track again. He can't seem to stop thinking about her.

He closes his eyes and gives in. He thinks of her even when he's trying not to, what is the point of resisting? She would not be looking for him in the fade, still angry over all that had come to pass. What would it hurt to linger on some of their shared memories? 

He does not reach for a specific memory when he arrives in the fade. But he is surprised by the memory he arrives to. It's innocuous enough that she would not be here if she were looking for a memory to watch. A night spent around the fire at Haven, a few people with makeshift instruments and a bard to sing. He'd not been in love with her then, nor she in love with him. But he remembers much from that night. 

That was the first night she had danced. Back then, he'd wanted to roll his eyes and dismiss it as a silly Dalish custom. But she'd been enrapturing. He'd watched closely, following the sensual movements of her body to the music.

He'd watched her, and she'd watched him. It'd taken him several minutes to notice her half-lidded eyes looking his way. He'd looked away when he had noticed. Embarrassed about being caught, the tips of his ears going red.

But this is the fade. This time, he doesn't look away. He watches her, watching him. Takes in all her curves, her features, in all their imperfect glory. His heart aches with the way he misses her, the shape of her against him. 

She gestures for him to join her. The sensual flick of a finger, beckoning. Unlike last time where he'd shaken his head with a slight smile, he pulls himself to his feet and joins her. The dreamscape ripples around them until they are alone. The movements of their bodies, the sound of their heavy breathing the only music they need.

He loves the way she moves. He wants to see what it would look like for her to dance as they had in the time of Elvhenan. So he guides her body with his own. 

This was a terrible idea. It is perfect and it makes him ache for her in a way he had not before. He finds himself leading her through a dance he never thought he would do. The dance lays claim to her, body and soul, makes him belong to her as much as she does to him. The dance is like a mating call, a question. Do you want me? Do you want me like I want you? Will you keep me? Allow me to keep you? Will you be mine forever? Can I be yours for just as long?

He wonders idly if she would hear the questions in the way they move if she were here. Wonders what her answer would be. Would she pull away at the end? Or pull him close to share breath? Would she find him wanting? Or accept him for who he was, what he was, what he'd done? What he was about to do? The thought hurts him because he's so certain that she would not accept him. He wishes he could tell her the truth, tell her everything.

His mind is distracted from his dark thoughts however by the swing of her hips. His eyes latch on and follow the sway. His mouth goes dry with how much he wants her, how much he misses her. Misses the way she made everything real, made everything possible. Everything had seemed possible when he could still hold her in his arms, hear her voice. He wishes he had paid more attention to her ramblings about her people, could remember more of her words, if only to listen to her voice.

He stops moving and after a moment she does as well. He pulls back enough to meet her eyes “Ar lath ma, vhenan.” He kisses her. She kisses back with such passion that he suspects there is a spirit or maybe Desire acting out the memory with him. But it's alright, he knows he cannot be tempted away from his duty. If the real Felix could not tempt him away, a pale imitation certainly could not. It's a bitter thought. 

Even if it is a pale copy, her kisses still taste like electricity. He could drown in the power of the love in the kiss.

She deepens the kiss and he allows it. It's wrong, so wrong. He shouldn't be doing this. But being with her had always felt right, regardless of how wrong it really was. He should have never allowed it to happen. He is about to pull away, pull himself from the dream, when the fade ripples around them and he is suddenly laid out over her in her bed back at Skyhold. He had not done it, a demon would not have bothered. A fear takes him, and is confirmed when she sighs happily under him as he nuzzles her neck and says “The dreams never taken that turn before. Which manner of spirit are you then? Love? I seem to attract a lot of those.” He freezes and pulls back. No. This is wrong. He cannot allow it to continue. 

He maybe panics a little and breathes out “It's time to wake up, vhenan.” He can only read the surprise on her face for a second before he is waking up in the clearing he fell asleep in. He knows deep down that he's hurt her again. He cannot seem to stop hurting her.

Perhaps it is best if he does not try to revisit his memories for awhile. He does not want to hurt her further. Though it warms his heart that she still dreams of him. Attracts spirits of love with the power of her ardor for him. It also hurts his heart that she is not able to move past him and find a happiness that will last her the rest of her life. 

He sighs into the night air and starts pulling up camp. There will be no more sleeping this night.


End file.
